Para Bellum
by Lord Silvere
Summary: An ambitious Voldemort prepares to lead his armies into the Delenda Est dimension to topple Minister Black III. But, he has lost the element of surprise, and there is a Pre-OotP dimension in between his dimension and the DE dimension where he will have to fight Minister Black's armies, spies, and civilian meddlers, not to mention two Harry Potters and the infamous Black Triplets.
1. Chapter 1: Three Underage Unspeakables

**A/N: **This story is technically a sequel/companion piece to Delenda Est. However, I do not think it is strictly necessary for you to read Delenda Est first. The story starts from the end of canon Harry's fourth year and involves travel between dimensions. The Harry you see in this chapter is the canon Harry. The Delenda Est Harry will appear at some later point in the story. Delenda's Harry will of course ship H/B. The canon Harry will be shipping H/G.

**PARA BELLUM**

**Chapter 1: Three Underage Unspeakables**

**Lord Silvere**

Harry let out a contented sigh as he leaned back in one of his aunt and uncle's kitchen chairs and sipped from a glass of lemonade. The summer following his fourth year at Hogwarts had been uncharacteristically hot and dry. Most of the lawns on Privet Drive were dead owing to water-use restrictions, but Uncle Vernon had been illicitly watering the lawn at #4 during the early hours of the morning. Consequently, it needed mowing, and that was Harry's job.

Setting the lemonade down for a moment, Harry wiped his forehead and tried fanning himself to get rid of the beads of sweat that had built up at his hairline. Ironically, despite being in the cool house, he was still sweating profusely.

Harry had just picked up the glass of lemonade again when the phone rang. Aunt Petunia, who was carefully dusting her treasures of trash in the front room, answered it. Apparently, her hands were full or dirty because she pushed the speakerphone button. The caller's voice echoed through the house.

"Hello. Is that Petunia Dursley speaking?" the female caller asked professionally with a crisp English accent.

"Yes," Petunia answered. "May I ask who this is?"

"Hello, Petunia. My name is Violet White," the caller said, sounding as warm and friendly as any salesperson did when a potential buyer was on the hook. "Petunia, I am conducting a one-question, yes or no answer, survey. Would you be willing to participate?"

Intrigued, Harry pushed himself off the chair in the kitchen and unobtrusively made his way toward the front room where Petunia was having her phone conversation with Violet White.

"I suppose I can answer one question," Petunia said, sounding very put-upon.

"Very good," Violet White said. "Now, here is the question. Mrs. Dursley, is your refrigerator running?"

"Why wouldn't it be running?" Petunia asked back.

"I need a yes or a no answer," Violet White said patiently.

"Yes, my refrigerator is running," Petunia snapped impatiently.

At her words, an enormous crash sounded from the kitchen. Harry, still somewhat close to the kitchen spun around and dashed back to the kitchen where he found the refrigerator gone and a massive hole where the backdoor should have been. As he looked through the window, he was just in time to watch the refrigerator, which had sprouted muscular, chrome legs, jump over the fence and run off.

Petunia arrived in the kitchen a millisecond later. "What happened?" she shrieked.

"Somebody stole the fridge while we were distracted by the phone call," Harry said quite honestly, though he omitted the involvement of magic while fervently hoping that this was not going to result in him receiving a letter from the Misuse of Magic office at the Ministry.

Petunia stalked back to the front room to give Violet White a piece of her mind, but it seemed that Violet White had already hung up. Undeterred, Petunia dialed the phone number of the police.

The police arrived about a half-hour later and solemnly inspected the kitchen. Finding an explanation for how the refrigerator thieves had accomplished the theft proved to be difficult. Eventually, Aunt Petunia and the police agreed that somebody must have run into the kitchen and attached a chain or strap to the fridge while Harry was listening to the phone call. Then, they must have attached the other end to a car and drove off with the fridge in tow.

Nobody was completely satisfied with that explanation because it left too many unanswered questions and seemed somewhat improbable. But, the police and Dursleys lost interest in finding a satisfactory answer when the fridge was located in the backyard of one of Dudley's friends—the same friend Dudley had been visiting all day. The police did not want to bother pressing charges against Dudley, and the Dursleys did not want it noised about that their son stole fridges.

Harry laughed himself to sleep that night, grateful for the amusement and happy that the Ministry had not detected any magic and laid blame at Harry's door.

~!~!~!~!~!

Over the next couple of weeks, the pranks continued steadily. At an important work presentation, Vernon's pants fell down. While doing her weekly shopping, Petunia found herself experiencing severe flatulence. And, on one Thursday morning, Dudley woke up with a hangover in the neighbor grandma's bed. To Dudley's horror, the grandma was not quite as offended as she should have been.

When in private, Harry laughed uncontrollably at these events and eagerly anticipated the next prank. Harry assumed that the Weasley twins were carrying out the pranks. He was tempted to send an owl to inquire whether this was true, but ultimately decided against it in case Mrs. Weasley found out and put a stop to the fun and games.

Harry's mirth slowly transformed into apprehension after he came face-to-face with the perpetrators of the pranks. It was a Friday evening. No pranks had occurred during the entire day, and Harry was disappointed. Uncle Vernon was watching the news and had kicked Harry out of the house.

Not entirely unhappy, Harry went for a stroll and found himself wandering around a neighborhood park. The sun was just setting when Harry heard the creak of metal on metal from the direction of the park's swing set.

Startled, Harry looked toward the swing set and spotted three teenage girls seated on the swings, slowly swaying back and forth in perfect synchronization. The three girls seemed to be about Harry's age, or slightly older, had identical facial features, and sported midnight-black hair done up in ponytails. Their clothing was also identical: dark blouses, knee-length black and purple plaid skirts, and almost-knee-high black boots.

The three girls were staring directly at Harry, their eyes boring into his. It was in their eyes that Harry finally found a distinguishing feature. One of them had emerald-colored eyes, just like Harry's own eyes. The other two had ruby-colored eyes.

Harry was trying to decide whether he should approach these strange girls or continue on his way when his focus was interrupted.

"Hey! It's Harry!'

Harry groaned and turned around to see Dudley and his cohort of idiots coming into the park. He turned back to see how the girls would react and was startled to discover that all three of the girls had disappeared, though the swings on the swing set still were moving back and forth in perfect synchronization.

Harry gritted his teeth and turned back to deal with Dudley and his gang. "What do you want, Dudley?"

"I don't know. Maybe we can have some fun. Maybe some Harry hunting," Dudley half said, half guffawed.

"Hey, boys," called a sultry, feminine voice.

Harry, Dudley, and Dudley's gang turned their attention to the sidewalk. Standing there were the two girls with ruby-colored eyes. Dudley and his gang were immediately smitten. Visibly, Dudley swallowed as he gathered the gumption to flirt with the dangerous-looking beauties. "Uh, hello there. Who are you?"

"You may call me Ivy," said one of the girls.

"Holly," the other said simply.

"What are you two doing?" Dudley asked.

"Looking for some fun," Ivy replied. "We saw you and thought you might be able to help us."

"We know some good places to hangout," Piers, one of Dudley's friends offered.

"Good," Ivy said. "We were thinking that a . . . private place might be best."

"Right this way," another of Dudley's friends volunteered, gesturing with his hand down the street to where Harry knew the local primary school's playground stood in a largely abandoned and secluded place.

"Lead the way," Ivy said, her smile almost looking predatory.

Shocked and confused, Harry watched as Ivy and Holly mingled with Dudley's gang and began walking away. Just before they got too far away, Holly turned back to Harry and winked at him slowly and deliberately. Harry stood frozen and watched until they were out of sight. When they were gone, Harry let out a gasp and shook himself, almost as if some spell had been restraining him from moving until that particular moment.

Confused and a little bit scared, Harry made his way home as quickly as he could, looking over his should often. Harry knew it was his imagination, but he could not shake the feeling that the girl with green eyes might be following him home.

~!~!~!~!~!

Dudley did not come home that night. Or the night after. The Dursleys called the police. The police commenced a half-hearted kidnapping investigation that was quickly downgraded to a runaway investigation after interrogations of Dudley's friends produced unbelievable stories. Each of them vehemently denied ever having seen Dudley that evening, but multiple neighbors had seen the gang together. The police concluded that they were covering Dudley's runaway attempt.

Petunia was frantic. Vernon was angry. Child protective services visited the Dursley household to inquire what horrid conditions might have driven Dudley to run away from home. Harry gladly cooperated with the Dursleys in accepting a better bedroom and furnishings so as to put on a good show for the government.

The tense situation in the household continued for two weeks. Harry sorely wanted to find things to do outside of the house, but each time he left the house and walked out of sight of it, somebody would begin following him. Although Harry never could see the person no matter what he did, he could always hear the footsteps on the sidewalk behind him.

In the end, Harry barricaded himself in his new bedroom and waited for further developments, while wondering if he should perhaps contact Professor Dumbledore or the Weasleys. He had just worked himself up to sending an owl when Dudley was found. Apparently, Dudley had been sold to the captain of a North Korean freighter and had managed to escape from the ship in Panama.

The Dursleys were on the next plane to Panama. They left Harry alone in #4. Shortly after the Dursleys' departure, Ministry of Magic officials were swarming the neighborhood. Harry watched from his bedroom window as Ministry investigators, dressed in odd combinations of Muggle attire visited each house in the neighborhood and talked to whoever answered the door. Harry wondered what they were asking about, and hoped the Ministry workers would visit #4, but nobody came.

Harry's curiosity was at last gratified when somebody knocked on the door several hours after sunset. Through the peephole, Harry saw Remus Lupin. With a sigh of relief, Harry opened the door and greeted his former professor.

"Is everything all right?" Remus asked as Harry stepped aside to let him, Alastor Moody, and two others into the house.

"Well . . . yes," Harry said, deciding not to bring up the mysterious witches that had spent the last month or so tormenting the Dursleys. "But why was the Ministry all over the neighborhood today?"

"There may have been an attempt to assassinate you," Moody said gruffly.

"I don't know that I would go that far," Remus said as Harry shut the door and led everybody into the main room of the house.

Harry reached for the light switch, but Moody stopped him. "No! It's best if nobody knows that anyone is even awake in the house."

"Okay," Harry said.

Remus carried on as if everything was perfectly normal. He introduced the other two that Harry did not recognize. "These are Kingsley Shacklebolt and Nymphadora Tonks," Remus said.

"Tonks, just Tonks," Tonks said crossly.

"We're going to take you out of here tonight," Remus said.

"So you best get packing," Moody said, his magic eye spinning wildly.

"I can do that for him. It'll be faster," Tonks said, leaving the room and making her way up the stairs.

"So, what was this about somebody trying to kill me?" Harry asked, directing his question to Lupin and Moody, both.

Moody did not respond, he was too busy patrolling the perimeter of the room and peering into the kitchen. Lupin was happy to explain.

"Late last night, the Ministry detected an explosion of arcane magic one street over from here," Lupin said. "They responded immediately and discovered a Dementor. To be more specific, a dead Dementor."

"What?" Harry asked, feeling shocked and confused. "I thought you couldn't kill Dementors."

"You can't," Moody barked from the kitchen, where he had opened the fridge was casting anti-stealth spells.

"Well somebody or something did," Lupin called back. "The corpse they found was that of a Dementor. Somebody had mutilated it, too. Probably harvesting parts of it for Potion ingredients. It was a sloppy job. Whoever it was knew the Ministry would be coming and did not waste time."

"So why aren't I a suspect in this? Don't they usually blame me for anything that happens around here? And what was a Dementor even doing here?" Harry asked. "Aren't they all supposed to be at Azkaban?"

Lupin shrugged. "There has been some internal inquiries at the Ministry about the Dementor. Dumbledore has especially been pressing that particular question, but he hasn't gotten far. As for you being a suspect, you're off the hook because the Ministry detected some arcane magic earlier in the summer—about two weeks after the school year ended. They know that wasn't you. It was off in the middle of nowhere at a place called Ravenbourgh. There's also the fact that, generally, the only people who know arcane magic spells are Unspeakables."

Moody let out a laugh from the front of the house where he was inspecting the door and windows. "The Ministry suspects Sirius, not some rogue Unspeakable. Ravenbourgh is what is left of the ancestral manor of the Black family. Perhaps if we can figure out who sent the Dementor, we can argue that Sirius was protecting you and make him look good. The arcane magic is not purely illegal or anything. It is just that the Ministry wants to know who is using it, and why. It can be very dangerous."

"Who do you think was using the arcane magic?" Harry asked.

"Probably You-Know-Who," Kingsley Shacklebolt said solemnly.

Tonks came down from Harry's bedroom. "Got everything, and some extra, too, I should think." She winked at Harry and handed him a small box and his Firebolt. "You can get somebody to unshrink your trunk at the place we're going. I sent your owl ahead."

"Thanks," Harry said, pocketing the trunk, and taking the Firebolt in both hands. "Are we flying?"

"Yes," Moody said gruffly. "We'll leave from the backyard as soon as we get the all-clear signal."

"Terrific," Harry said, excited to fly his Firebolt.

~!~!~!~!~!

Harry found Ron and Hermione waiting for him at #12 Grimmauld Place. They retreated to the bedroom Harry would be sharing with Ron, where Hermione apologized profusely for not having had time to write. Ron explained that Dumbledore had advised his family to move most of their things into the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters and that the move had been difficult—especially the thorough deep cleaning Mrs. Weasley had insisted upon before they actually moved their stuff into Grimmauld Place. Sirius had been glad to offer the ancestral Black home for the Order and Weasleys' use, but had not been terribly helpful about cleaning it up. He seemed to have a deep-seated contempt for the house.

Harry was quick to forgive; the strange activities at Privet Drive had occupied his time and thoughts anyway, and Harry wanted to tell his friends about what had happened. Predictably, Hermione was very concerned. Ron thought the pranks sounded fantastic.

"Kidnapping one of your family members is very serious!" Hermione admonished Harry. "What if Voldemort had wanted to use your cousin's blood against you?"

"I'm pretty sure we're well past the risks of Voldemort getting his hands on my blood," Harry said and then reminded Ron and Hermione of how Pettigrew had taken some of his blood to help revive the Dark Lord. "Now, tell me, what is being done about Voldemort?"

Ron and Hermione quickly explained that Professor Dumbledore had organized the Order of the Phoenix to help coordinate certain activities against the Dark Lord. "So, that's the good news," Hermione said. "The bad news is that Minister Fudge is refusing to acknowledge that Voldemort is back and isn't doing anything at all to prepare against him or to stop him."

"What kind of stuff does the Order do?" Harry asked, curious. The part about Fudge did not surprise him. Harry had harbored a certain amount of dislike for Fudge after the politician arrested Hagrid on suspicion of being the Heir of Slytherin responsible for the Chamber of Secrets attacks.

"We're not sure," Hermione admitted. "All sorts of witches and wizards come to meetings, but the meetings are secret. We're not allowed in. That's where all the adults are now. In a meeting."

Ron nodded. "We'll have dinner, and you can catch up with Sirius and everybody once this meeting is over."

"Perhaps Sirius will tell me what they are doing," Harry mused hopefully.

"Maybe," Hermione said doubtfully.

~!~!~!~!~!

To Harry's frustration, not even Sirius would reveal information about the Order's secret meetings to Harry. Sensing Harry's frustration, Sirius had endeavored to explain that it was better that Harry did not know details unless it was necessary. Sirius did promise, however, that he would inform Harry of anything that he thought Harry ought to know, even if Dumbledore or Mrs. Weasley disagreed.

Harry was moderately satisfied, but in a fit perverseness, he decided that he would not bring up the incidents perpetrated by the three mysterious witches at the Dursley house. Hermione thought that this decision of Harry's was frustrating, but Ron was supportive.

"Think about it, mate," Ron said. "If these witches killed a Dementor, they were helping you. If they kidnapped Dudley, they were helping you."

"It doesn't matter who was benefited, Ron!" Hermione exclaimed as the three made their way through one of the upper floors of #12 Grimmauld Place. "What they did indicates that they have disturbed minds!"

"They're gone anyway. Harry will probably never see them again," Ron said, rolling his eyes.

Harry, who had stepped to a window overlooking the street below, let out a sigh. "I'm afraid you might be wrong, Ron. At least about never seeing them again."

"What makes you so sure?" Ron demanded, a little offended that Harry would turn on him.

Harry pointed to the street. "See that girl standing next to the streetlight? The burned out streetlight? I think that might be one of them."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked after stepping over to the window and peering down. Below, a woman stood next to one of the streetlights. She seemed nonchalant, but about once every ten seconds or so she would look toward #12 Grimmauld Place.

Ron let out a noncommittal noise as he looked down. "It's too dark and she's not very close. I'll go grab my omninoculars." Wasting no time, he strode out of the room, brushing past Ginny in the doorway, who was just coming into the room.

"Dinner is almost ready," Ginny announced to Harry and Hermione as she passed the heavy, wood doorway and stepped a few feet into the room. "As soon as the meeting ends, Mum will serve it to everybody."

"Oh, good," Hermione said, still looking down at the solitary figure near the streetlight with a frown on her face. She seemed too focused on the mysterious person to give Ginny any attention.

"Hi, Ginny," Harry said, prompted into action by the awkwardness of standing in the room with Ginny and Hermione as Hermione looked down at the street. Harry forced himself to say more. "Have a good summer?"

"Yeah," Ginny said, blushing faintly. "You?"

"It was entertaining," Harry said.

"Well, I'll see you down at dinner, then," Ginny said, turning to leave and retreating through the doorway.

"I don't understand," Hermione said after Ginny left. "This house is under the Fidelius Charm. There is no possible way they could know we are here unless they are part of the Order."

"Maybe they are part of the Order," Harry suggested. "Maybe Dumbledore assigned them to protect me."

"Perhaps," Hermione said skeptically. "It seems like he would at least tell you."

It was at this juncture that Ron returned with the omninoculars and handed them to Harry. Harry put them to his eyes and turned the knobs to focus and zoom in on the woman standing below by the streetlight.

"Well?" Ron asked.

"Well, it doesn't _look_ like any of them," Harry said, "but that woman's posture and attitude really reminds me of them."

Hermione grabbed the omninoculars and looked through them at the woman below. "Yes—older and short, blond hair. That's not who you described. What do you mean by the posture and attitude, though?" She handed the omninoculars to Ron, who took his turn to look down.

"Just . . . I don't know," Harry said. "Look at her when anybody walks by. She kind of gives them a predatory look as if she considering whether she should attack them or something. And it isn't the sort of decision based on self-defense or fear. She would enjoy the opportunity."

"Hmmm," Ron said.

"Logically," Hermione mused, "the person down there can't who you think it is, or if it is, they must be acting on Dumbledore's orders. I don't see how the girls from Privet Drive could possibly know where this place is. It is protected by magic."

Ron shrugged. "If she's there tomorrow and the next day, and the day after that, we'll have an answer."

"We will have only eliminated the coincidence option," Hermione said. "That will leave us with more questions. Perhaps we should talk to Dumbledore about this."

Harry shook his head. "Let's not. I mean, if we tell, and it is something stupid, then we look stupid. But if we don't tell, we can always tell later."

"Good thinking, mate," Ron said.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

~!~!~!~!~!

Long after dinner, Hermione was making her way to the bedroom she shared with Ginny when she was tempted to check the street below. Peering through one of #12's front windows, she spotted a solitary figure standing near the burned out streetlight. The same woman was still standing near the streetlight. Letting out a shudder, Hermione left the window and went to her bedroom.

Ginny was sitting on her bed in her pajamas, half-heartedly flipping through an old Quidditch magazine. "Is she still there?"

Hermione let out a small smile as she sat down on her bed. "It would be easier if you would just start hanging out with us."

"Kind of hard when I can't stop myself from blushing when he's around," Ginny retorted, setting down the magazine on a bedside table.

"I thought you were over the hero-worship stage," Hermione said.

"Now I blush because I'm embarrassed there ever was a so-called hero-worship stage," Ginny sighed.

Hermione nodded and did not speak for a moment as she stood up and quickly changed from her day clothes into her own pajamas.

"Have they told Harry anything, or is he in the dark like us?" Ginny asked.

"They've told him nothing," Hermione said, throwing her clothes in the hamper and then climbing under the covers of her bed. "In retaliation, he has vowed to not inform them that he has three creeper witches stalking him."

"They haven't actually harmed him," Ginny pointed out.

"True," Hermione admitted. "That and the wards around this place are the only reasons I'm not going to Dumbledore with this. We'll be at Hogwarts, soon, as well. I doubt they could get him there."

Ginny picked up the magazine and made as if she was about to read it some more. Hermione was just reaching for a textbook when Ginny put the magazine back down. "I might have heard something the Order was talking about when my Mum called me in and told me to get everybody for dinner," she admitted.

"About Harry?" Hermione asked, now on the alert.

"I don't know if it is about Harry. There is some sort of prophecy," Ginny said. "The Order members are trying to ensure that Voldemort does not learn about it."

"How would Voldemort learn about it?" Hermione asked.

"The Ministry records each prophecy," Ginny said.

"And Fudge probably is not taking precautions against visits from Voldemort," Hermione mused.

"What do you think the prophecy is about?" Ginny asked.

"Probably about Voldemort," Hermione said, quirking a smile.

"Couldn't it be about Harry, too?" Ginny asked.

"Very likely," Hermione said.

"Should we tell Harry?" Ginny asked.

Hermione shrugged. "If we do, he'll go to Sirius. If Sirius has not already told Harry about the prophecy, he is not likely to do so then. And then, with the Order alerted, it would be harder for any of us to learn more. Let's wait and see if we can find out more."

"Okay," Ginny said, sounding a little doubtful.

~!~!~!~!~!

The next two weeks were uneventful. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and sometimes Ginny, would frequently congregate together near one of the front windows. At all times, they could spot at least one woman on the street below, loitering. The women never looked the same, and they did not always stand motionless under the burned out streetlamp. They found various activities to keep themselves entertained. The nature of these activities confirmed to Harry that the women watching #12 Grimmauld Place were the same witches that had tormented the Dursleys.

On one afternoon, the witch on duty conjured a severed arm and laid it on the sidewalk and then walked across the street and sat casually on a street bench. The occasional Muggle would walk by and be horrified. They would scream and run when the hand would begin twitching and using its fingers to drag itself across the pavement.

Harry and Ron, the ones to witness that particular spectacle, laughed until they cried. The antics of the witch when the Ministry officials swarmed the street and disposed of the severed arm also made them laugh. They wished they had a way to hear what the witch, posing as an innocent bystander, said to the Ministry.

On one night after Harry had been at Grimmauld Place for two weeks, Harry, Ron, and Hermione came back from dinner to discover that there was nobody on the street below.

"I hope nothing bad happened to them," Harry worried.

"We've been sitting here afraid that they were going to do something really bad, and now you're worried when they don't show up?" Hermione said scathingly.

"There's nothing wrong with them," Ron scoffed. "They're just pranksters like the twins."

"That doesn't give us the answer to the essential question of why they are stalking Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Good Samaritans," Ron declared stubbornly.

Ron was forced to reassess his opinion of the three witches at approximately 3 o'clock in the morning when Professor Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody awoke the residents of #12 Grimmauld Place for an emergency Order meeting. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the twins were camped for half an hour outside the Order's meeting room before Arthur Weasley emerged to run an errand and stopped long enough to explain what happened.

"Bellatrix Lestrange has been broken out of Azkaban," he told them.

"How?" Harry demanded loudly as Arthur jogged down the hallway.

"Three witches who impersonated Unspeakables," Arthur called back.

Ron, Hermione, and Harry shared panicked stares. They received no further information until the Daily Prophet was delivered. A little bit of a scuffle ensued, but Hermione ended it by promising to read aloud:

DAILY PROPHET

Bellatrix Lestrange Broken out of Azkaban by Rogue Unspeakables

Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent

At approximately midnight, Azkaban guards erroneously released Bellatrix Lestrange into the custody of three witches identifying themselves as Unspeakables and claiming to have orders from Minister Fudge to remove the infamous Death Eater from Azkaban and move her to a more secure location.

"These witches possessed genuine Unspeakable credentials," Azkaban Warden Steward Cratcher declared in response to this reporter's inquiries. "Moreover, under the influence of Veritaserum, these witches affirmatively said they were acting on orders personally issued by the Minister of Magic."

Despite Warden Cratcher's averments that he did nothing wrong, this reporter wonders why he relied on Veritaserum when contacting Minister Fudge for confirmation would have been easier. There is also the inconvenient truth that Warden Cratcher cannot seem to remember the names or facial features of the witches allegedly at fault. Were there witches? Despite the cloud of suspicion that hangs over the Azkaban guards, the problem may be within the Ministry itself. Warden Cratcher and the purportedly existent Unspeakables answer to higher authorities.

"I am commencing a very serious internal investigation," Amelia Bones informed the press corps. "A lot of untoward things have happened in the past couple of months, and I have not been satisfied with Minister Fudge's reactions. If these so-called Unspeakables had credentials, and if they vowed under the influence of a truth potion that they had orders from Minister Fudge, there are some questions that need to be answered by the Department of Mysteries and Minister Fudge.

The Chief Unspeakable and the Minister of Magic declined to comment before press time.

Aurors have been alerted and are out in force searching for Lestrange and the rogue Unspeakables. Anybody with information should contact magical law enforcement promptly.

~!~!~!~!~!

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were subdued as Mrs. Weasley served breakfast to them and prepared brown bags for Order members to take with them as they joined the hunt for Bellatrix Lestrange. They dug into potatoes, bacon, and eggs slowly as Ginny watched with concern and the twins made various jokes about the wanted poster the Ministry had produced for Bellatrix Lestrange.

The arrival of owls with Hogwarts letters did little to cheer the trio up, though Mrs. Weasley was beyond proud to find that Ron had been named prefect. Harry felt bad about not making prefect himself, but tried to assuage his feelings with the hope that he would be Quidditch captain in his sixth and seventh years.

After breakfast, Harry met with Ron and Hermione, and they jointly decided that there was no point in telling the Order about the three witches at Privet Drive or loitering outside of Grimmauld Place. They reckoned that the Order and Ministry was already searching for the witches and Bellatrix Lestrange.

Collectively, the three vowed to themselves that they would not hide important information from the Order again and resolved that if they spotted any watchers on the street below, they would inform the Order immediately.

As it was, they did not spot the witches again, and the whirlwind of preparing for another year at Hogwarts occupied most of their attentions. The annual trip to Diagon Alley was enjoyable, even if half a dozen Order members accompanied the teens and insisted they stay together. All too soon, the teens found themselves being escorted by another half a dozen Order members through Kings Cross Station to the Hogwarts Express.

On the way through the train station, Harry noticed that even the Muggle government was displaying wanted posters featuring Bellatrix Lestrange. The group had to stop and wait at the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 so that everybody could go through in ones and twos. Harry took the opportunity to study one of the posters.

"She looks like them," Harry said to Ron and Hermione, the realization dawning on him for the first time.

"What?" Hermione asked.

"The three witches. That time I saw them in the park . . . they look just like her. They could be her daughters."

"That's impossible, Harry," Hermione said. "Bellatrix Lestrange has no children."

"I still think there is a resemblance," Harry said stubbornly. "The witches were younger and leaner and had different eye colors, but they really looked like her."

"Whatever," Ron said, "it's nearly our turn."

Eventually, the entire group was on Platform 9¾.

"Let's find a compartment," Hermione suggested, shepherding Ron, Harry, and Ginny toward the train. "Ron and I must attend the prefects' meeting, but we'll be back with you for the rest of the journey."

They found an empty compartment near the front of the train and the prefects' compartment. Hermione bundled Ginny into it while Harry and Ron manhandled everybody's trunks. Just as Hermione and Ron departed for their meeting, the train lurched, and Harry and Ginny found themselves sitting next to each other.

Just as Harry was trying to think of something intelligent to say to Ginny, somebody else broke the ice for him.

"Hi, Harry!" came a feminine voice.

Startled, both Harry and Ginny stared at the bench opposite where two of the three witches from Privet Drive were now sitting. They were both wearing black pants and red blouses under windbreakers that looked too big for them. At some subconscious level, Harry noted that they both had red eyes. It was Ivy and Holly—the ones that had walked off with Dudley and his friends.

"H-h-how did you get here?" Harry stuttered.

"The door was open," one of them said, nodding to the open compartment door with a smirk.

Ginny stood up and tried to dart out of the compartment, but the door slammed shut.

"What's your hurry?" asked the one on the left.

"Yes, do stay a while," the one on the right suggested, gesturing to the seat that Ginny had just abandoned.

"Our friends are going to come back, and then your game is up," Ginny said with a huff as she sat down.

"I doubt it," said one of the witches, extracting a piece of bubblegum from the pocket of her Muggle windbreaker and popping it into her mouth.

"Yes, your precious prefects will soon discover that they cannot get the door to their compartment open," finished the other as she produced her own piece of bubblegum from her windbreaker, placed it in her mouth, and began chewing. "Or the windows for that matter," she added in between chews.

Harry was not sure what to say, and the mysterious witches did not seem to have anything to say either, for they merely stared at Harry and Ginny silently while synchronizing the movements of their mouths as they chewed their bubblegum and listened to the clackety-clack of the train beneath them.

It was after they blew simultaneous bubbles that Ginny finally exploded. "What do you want?"

"We're just here to see to it that you get to Hogwarts safely. Nothing else," the one on the right responded.

"You're Ivy, aren't you?" Harry asked to the one on the right.

"Yes, how did you know?" Ivy inquired.

"There's a subtle difference in your demeanor," Harry said.

Holly smiled at Harry. "Not even our mother can tell us apart."

"Actually, it does make sense that you'd be able to differentiate us," Ivy observed.

"How is that?' Harry asked.

Ivy and Holly did not answer, but merely continued chewing gum and blowing bubbles as they stared at Harry and Ginny.

"There's a third one of you, isn't there?" Ginny asked.

The two witches both nodded.

"Violet, isn't it? With the green eyes," Harry said. At their nod he continued. "Where is she? With Bellatrix Lestrange?"

"Suffice it to say that she is supervising the train driver," Ivy replied.

"What did you do with Bellatrix?" Harry asked.

"Killed her," Ivy said.

"Really?" Harry said, shocked.

"Maybe," Holly said.

"Did you kill her or not?" Ginny challenged.

"You don't seriously expect us to answer that, do you?" Ivy asked.

"But you just did answer," Harry said, feeling confused.

"Harry, because we love you, we're going to let you in on a little secret," Holly said.

"Yes," Ivy said. "You see, whenever we say something, there is a very good chance that we're telling a lie."

"Then what was the point of even answering Harry's question?" Ginny said, clearly outraged.

"It would have been rude to not answer," Holly said cheerfully.

"So, you might have been lying about getting me to Hogwarts safely."

Holly and Ivy nodded solemnly.

"And you might be Ivy instead of Holly, and you might be Holly instead of Ivy," Harry said, beginning to feel severely annoyed.

Holly and Ivy nodded again, and punctuated it with the crack of bubblegum bubbles popping.

"Are you Unspeakable like you told the Azkaban guards?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Ivy said.

"No," Holly added.

"Define what you mean by "Unspeakable," Ivy said.

"Ivy is the one who talks more," Ginny concluded, having deduced a rule for telling the two witches apart.

"No," Ivy denied, "I'm just the one parroting Violet's response in her absence."

A long and awkward silence passed as the occupants of the compartment stared at each other, and in the case of the mysterious witches, made funny face. Eventually, the train had left London and was passing through rural areas of England.

"What are we supposed to do, now?" Harry asked.

"Whatever you normally do on these journeys," Ivy said.

"We won't interfere," Holly added.

The two stared at Harry and Ginny expectantly.

"Seriously, you can snog each other. We won't tell anybody." Ivy said.

"And for this time only, we will not take pictures or make recordings of any kind." Holly said.

Harry and Ginny did not accept that particular invitation, though if they had, Harry suspected it might have been less awkward.

Ginny broke the most recent silence. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-three," Ivy said.

"That's funny, you look just like you are sixteen years old at most," Ginny retorted.

"We get that a lot," Holly confided.

"Then why did you bother asking if your powers of observation are so powerful?" Ivy demanded.

Ginny looked like she was ready to say quite a few more rude things to the mysterious witches, but the train abruptly lurched at the same time that a magical explosion ripped through the air outside the train and broke the windows in the compartment.

Ivy let out an expletive that would have left even Ron blushing.

"We were afraid of this," Holly sighed, a wand appearing in her hand. She flicked it and the glass repaired itself. Another flick, and the glass was transfigured into a strong-looking metal.

Ivy, who had leapt to her feet and opened the compartment door, motioned to Harry and Ginny. "This way, if you please."

Harry, who had also drawn his wand, followed. Ginny followed Harry, and Holly brought up the rear.

"What are we doing?" Harry asked.

"We're going to hop onto the locomotive, unhitch the rest of the train, and then haul hell for leather," Ivy announced.

"Wouldn't it be safer to hide in the compartment?" Harry asked as the group made their way through the train car as explosions sounded around it. Students through the car were screaming, but for some reason, they could not get their compartment doors open.

"We would be sitting ducks, and everybody in the rest of the train would probably get killed," Holly explained.

"The Aurors would get here eventually," Harry pointed out.

"Do you really think the same Ministry that could not protect its high-security prison from three teenagers is going to be much help here?" Ivy shouted, trying to be heard over the magical explosions outside the train.

Harry was going to admit that she was right, but the train suddenly lurched and sped up dramatically.

"Brace yourselves!" Holly shouted, leaning herself against the front end of the train car to the side of the door.

"What's happening?" Ginny yelled as Holly grabbed her.

Ivy had grabbed Harry and was leaning against the front of the train car on the side of the door opposite Holly and Ginny

"That increase of speed is something that Violet, our self-appointed train driver supervisor, would describe as ramming speed," Ivy announced. "Let us hope the locomotive is bigger and stronger than whatever we're about to hit."

Despite being protected, Harry felt the whiplash as the train collided with something at high speed. Every individual piece of wood the train was made from shuddered as the train slowed—but only for a moment. Soon, the train was moving faster than it had been previously. The students, locked in their compartments were screaming hysterically. Suddenly, Harry could see Hermione staring at him through the window of one compartment. She was trying to shout something.

"Let's get going before the next ramming opportunity!" Ivy yelled, taking Harry by the hand and pulling him through the door.

Harry tried to wave at Hermione, but Holly got in the way as she brought Ginny out of the train car. At Holly and Ivy's urging, Harry and Ginny climbed onto the locomotive's tender and then crawled into the locomotive's engineer compartment. There, they found Violet manning the controls.

"What happened to the driver?" Holly, or Ivy—Harry had lost track of who was who—asked.

"I gave him a peaceful, early retirement," Violet answered as she pulled on a lever and used her wand to cast some spell in the firebox. "Unhitch the rest of the train, already. Unlock the doors to the compartments, too."

"Where are the attackers?" Harry asked Violet as Holly and Ivy left to unhitch the train.

"We lost them at their little barricade," Violet snickered. "They weren't expecting me to plough through like that. They'll catch up soon, though. Be ready to fight back. Probably will be on brooms or something."

Harry and Ginny needed no further urging. They stepped back to the area between the locomotive proper and tender and looked up in to the sky. Ivy and Holly soon joined them, and the group watched as the locomotive sped down the track, leaving the train behind. Just as the train faded from sight, dark specks appeared on the horizon.

"Flying in lightning is bad," Ivy commented.

"Yes," Harry agreed, "but where is the lightning."

Ivy's lip curled maliciously as she flipped her wand in her hand and began plunging it down like a dagger. Lightning began striking from the clear blue sky as the locomotive sped down the tracks at over a hundred miles per hour.

Holly was also waving her wand around, but the effects were not immediately apparent.

Harry aimed at the dark specks in the sky and shot a few stunners, but they missed. Ginny followed suit, and soon, Harry and Ginny were peppering the sky with various hexes.

Ivy continued with the lightning as Holly began waving her wand in great loops. Thunder sounded, and suddenly, the sky was dark with violent-looking clouds. Now, not all the lightning was coming from Ivy's wand.

"They're holding back!" Violet yelled as the dark clouds began to shower rain upon them and the speeding locomotive. "Your Dark Lord doesn't have enough Death Eaters to risk this early in the war. Maybe we can hold them off until we get to Hogsmeade station and then Hogwarts."

"How long until we reach Hogsmeade?" Harry yelled.

"Even at this speed, an hour at the least," Violet answered.

"Even this pathetic Ministry will have figured out something is up by now," Holly declared as she continued to work the weather.

"We can probably hold out, then," Ivy said, sounding cheerful.

Harry felt a twinge in his scar and his heart froze. "What if Voldemort showed up?" he asked.

"That would be very, very bad," Violet said solemnly.

"Then, I think I have some awful news for you," Harry announced.

~!~!~!~!~!

As the train cars slowed, the spells holding the compartment doors faded. Hermione, who had been indiscriminately blasting at the wood and glass was relieved to be able to finally slide it open. Other students did likewise and spilled out into the hallway. Hermione, followed by Ron, pushed through panicked crowd and to the still-open door at the front end of the train car. Just on the horizon, they could see the locomotive barreling down the tracks at full speed.

"You-Know-Who has Harry!" Ron exclaimed as he and Hermione stood at the open door and watched the locomotive steam out of sight.

"I don't think so," Hermione said as several dark figures on brooms whizzed past the train. "Those Death Eaters wouldn't be chasing the locomotive if that was true. I think there is a good chance those two mysterious witches were protecting Harry and Ginny"

"Maybe," Ron said doubtfully.

"We have to hope that's the case," Hermione said as she sat down dejectedly.

Seeing that Hermione was near tears, Ron switched course. "Harry will be fine. He always comes out on top. Ginny, too."

"I sure hope so," Hermione said.

~!~!~!~!~!

Voldemort had made his appearance. He was floating in a dark stream of smoke that was keeping speed with the train. He was leering down at Harry. "We meet again, Potter."

Harry shot a stunner at him. The red beam of light passed through the black smoke, harming nothing.

Voldemort laughed. "Stunners and disarmers will not always save you, Potter." The Dark Lord produced a wand and stabbed it toward Harry. Harry responded, and red and green bursts of energy connect the wands. Voldemort gritted his teeth with anger.

Harry focused on pouring his strength into the contest of wills. Harry's red beam overpowered Voldemort's green and the Dark Lord's wand exploded. Without his wand, the spell holding the Dark Lord in the black stream of smoke failed, and they left Voldemort in an explosive heap next to the tracks as the train raced on at full speed.

Harry was feeling relieved until one of the mysterious witches shouted. "Duck!"

Before Harry could react, he was pushed to the ground. He looked up to see that it was Ginny. With horror, he watched as a nasty, purple spell exploded into the back of Ginny's torso. Suddenly unconscious, Ginny slumped on Harry.

Harry scrambled to get out from under Ginny without harming her further as Ivy and Holly fended off the new attacker. Harry was shocked to discover that it was Voldemort, except that he seemed slightly different—and had another wand.

Voldemort sneered as a barrage of spells from his prospective victims raced toward him. He disappeared and reappeared atop the locomotive's cab. Viciously, he lashed out with his wand, but his magic was blocked by combined shield charms cast by the three witches. Several more spells from the witches and Harry managed to force Voldemort off the locomotive and into the air where he flew with no visible means of support—not even black smoke or a broom.

"Tunnel up ahead," Holly reminded Ivy and Violet.

"Thank Merlin," Violet muttered, pulling a shiny object out of her windbreaker.

Harry was casting shield charms as fast as he could, but he still managed to get a good look at what Violet was holding. It appeared to be a diamond Rubik's cube.

"No!" Ivy yelled as Violet clutched the Rubik's cube and checked the track ahead for the upcoming tunnel. It was within sight.

"If there are two Dark Lords in this dimension, then it won't hurt if there are two Harrys in our dimension!" Violet shouted to her sisters. She stabbed her wand at the controls of the locomotive, and suddenly it was coming to a screeching halt, sparks showering from the stopped wheels as the locomotive plunged into the railroad tunnel. Seconds after the locomotive disappeared into the tunnel, a short flash of blue and white arcane magic preceded a thunderous explosion that marked the end of the scarlet steam engine.


	2. Chapter 2: A Whole New World

**A/N: **Thanks for the reviews on the last chapter.

**Chapter 2: A Whole New World**

**Lord Silvere**

As the scarlet locomotive screeched into the tunnel amid a shower of sparks, the diamond Rubik's cube exploded into bright light and blinded Harry, who had not realized he should shield his eyes. An unseen power grabbed him, and Harry felt the invisible force push him through what felt like a suffocating wall of jelly. When Harry regained his breath, it was pitch black, and he was falling. A few moments later, he landed on a soft surface, making a barely-audible thump. Within milliseconds, Harry heard four other thumps.

"Where are we?" Harry gasped breathlessly, moving his head and trying to search his surroundings for a smallest hint of light or an indication about the nature of his surroundings.

"Shush!" one of the three mysterious witches hissed from somewhere in the dark.

Silently, Harry continued to fumble around as he tried to become familiar with his surroundings. The only sound that he could hear was the breathing of those around him.

Finally, one of the three mysterious witches spoke. "I don't think we are going to be followed. They probably do not even realize that we exited the dimension."

"Yeah, and even if they do realize that we've left, they'll have a difficult time finding the precise coordinates," another one of the witches reasoned.

"Let's get moving," yet another suggested.

"I can't see," Harry complained.

One of the witches muttered an incantation, and an orb of light formed, revealing to Harry that he and the three witches were sitting on a flying carpet. Or rather, the witches were sitting primly on the carpet while Harry was sprawled ungracefully. Ginny was lying prone, facedown, next to Harry.

"Is she going to be all right?" Harry asked, looking at Ginny and shifting to get nearer to her and trying to suppress his memory of finding her unconscious like this in the Chamber of Secrets.

"I don't know," said Violet, the green-eyed witch, her face betraying only a faint amount of concern.

"We've never seen the spell she got hit with before," Ivy, or Holly, said. Harry thought it might be Holly. The harrowing events of the train attack and subsequent plunge into darkness had caused Harry to lose his orientation as to which red-eyed witch was which.

Violet stood and cautiously stepped across the carpet to where Ginny was lying. With the aid of some cutting charms, she ungracefully removed Ginny's top as Harry blushed. "No physical marks," Violet said clinically, looking at Ginny's bare back and even checking under the bra straps gingerly before conjuring a blanket and laying it over Ginny.

"That's good, right?" Harry said.

Violet arched an eyebrow at Harry as she returned to where she had been sitting. "Surely you've been in the magical world long enough to know that's probably very bad, especially when the Dark Lord is involved."

"What are you going to do?" Harry asked, looking at the witches. "She needs help."

Ivy and Holly shrugged. One of them spoke. "Drop her off at St. Mungo's as soon as possible?"

"Don't you know any healing spells?" Harry pleaded, as he alternated glances between the three witches and Ginny.

All three witches shook their heads in the negative.

"Where are we?" Harry demanded, beginning to feel very frustrated.

"We know the answer to that question," one of them said.

"Sort of," another amended.

"Actually, we mostly just know where we aren't," finished the third.

Harry glowered at his saviors and kidnappers.

One of them began explaining. "We are currently floating on a magic carpet in the void between your dimension and our dimension. You see, our dimensions run parallel to each other."

"We're not actually floating, per se," another of the witches corrected. "We are steadily moving toward our own dimension. So, don't make any sudden moves, or you will fall off the carpet and into nothingness."

"If we were comfortable using more light, you would be able to see the boundaries where our dimensions begin and end and then also see the infinite hallway-like void that runs between the dimensions. The boundary, if you will," another of the witches lectured. "We were able to do a little bit of exploring on our journey to your dimension, but there is still much to learn about this space between dimensions and inter-dimensional travel."

"Dimensions?" Harry asked blankly.

"Yes," one of the witches said, looking at Harry with an expression on her face that suggested she thought he might be a little dim. "Like mirror images of reality. Mostly, parallel dimensions seem to have the same people and places. But, events have played out differently."

"So, you're saying that you come from a different form of reality just like mine, except that things are different?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"So, is there another me in your dimension?" Harry asked.

All of the witches smirked at Harry, and they answered in unison. "Yes."

"Shouldn't there be parallel versions of you in my dimension?" Harry asked.

"We don't exist in your dimension," one of the witches informed Harry. "Nor will we ever exist in your dimension. That is, unless you are a total and complete pervert. In the 1970s, the war against Voldemort started differently in our dimension than it started in yours. Suffice it to say, the sequence of events in your dimension makes it nearly impossible for us to exist in your dimension. You should also know that our dimension is nearly twenty years ahead your dimension. So, we're parallel, but not necessarily aligned. Although, I suppose there is a way to move through this void in such a way as to travel through time."

Harry shook his head in disbelief as he tried to wrap his mind around what the witches had told him.

The witches did not seem to be very interested in helping him understand more. Instead, they lapsed into silence, staring off into the distance, seemingly occupied in thought, likely thinking more about dimension travel and time travel. Harry kept glancing at Ginny. Fretting, he reached out to touch her.

"Careful," the green-eyed witch warned. "You don't want to move her any more than completely necessary. She might have internal injuries."

"Right," Harry, feeling foolish and telling himself that he should have known that about injuries. He kept looking at her, trying to detect signs of breathing or discomfort, but he could see nothing to indicate that Ginny was anything but peacefully asleep.

After about five minutes, one of the witches produced a wooden Rubik's cube. Instead of colored blocks, each square had a small symbol engraved into it. She began fiddling with it, rotating the cubes and pausing to examine each alignment as if solving the puzzle, except that Harry could not decipher what the solution to the puzzle might look like and thus could not gauge whether she was making progress. Finally, she stopped.

"I think that one moor would be the best entry point," she announced before tossing the Rubik's cube to one of her sisters.

The witch who was now holding the Rubik's cube drew a wand and studied the cube for a moment before closing her eyes and pointing her wand at the carpet. Harry could not see or feel anything, but he had a distinct feeling that the carpet was no longer moving through the darkness in the same direction. Abruptly, a dull, silvery wall appeared next to one of the flying carpet's edges.

"This is the boundary to our dimension," Violet informed Harry as she produced the diamond Rubik's cube. "Our Ministry of Magic has wards that detect when people enter our dimension within Britain. When the Aurors arrive, we'll have them take Ginny to St. Mungo's."

"_Do not _tell anybody your name," one of Violet's sisters told Harry sternly. "In fact . . . ," she said, trailing off.

"We'll disguise you," the other sister announced, drawing her wand and casting glamor charms on Harry and Ginny.

Violet nodded in approval, and suddenly, the diamond Rubik's cube exploded into light yet again. Harry felt himself nearly suffocate as he was pushed through an invisible barrier. When Harry's eyes cleared, he found himself sitting on a rocky moor along with the three sisters and Ginny. The sun was still making its way up to its noontime position. As far as Harry could tell, it was the same time in this dimension as it had been when he had departed his own dimension.

About five seconds after Harry was able to see his surroundings, he began to hear the telltale pops made by wizards and witches apparating to nearby locations. Their crisp uniforms with Ministry logos on the upper arms and rank insignia over their hearts marked them as Aurors. Dragonhide boots, dull battle robes, and well-stocked utility belts marked them as elite Aurors. Faintly impressed, Harry watched them approach the group from every side, their wands drawn, wondering if this was some sort of special unit. Harry's experience with Aurors was limited, but he thought that if this group had been at the World Cup, the rioters would have been dispatched quickly.

"Freeze!" somebody shouted.

"Oh, never mind," said a voice familiar to Harry. "It's just the witches Black."

Harry zeroed in on the voice and found an older and marginally tamer version of Tonks standing behind him. A quick survey of the other Aurors' uniforms revealed to Harry that Tonks was likely the ranking Auror present. Her hair was an unnatural shade of purple, but the color was not so bright as to stand out from a far distance. She stood with her arms crossed, surveying the three witches with an expression that reflected both a measure of amusement and exasperation.

"Take us to your leader, Earthling!" commanded the witch that Harry thought might be Ivy as she and Holly got to their feet and dusted off their clothes.

"Actually," Violet interrupted as she also stood and directed the Aurors' attention to Ginny, "this witch needs immediate medical attention. We also want to keep her in isolation with as few visitors as possible pending instructions from the top."

Tonks signaled two of the Aurors to take charge of Ginny. "Take her to St. Mungo's. Wait there for further direction."

The two Aurors stepped forward, took hold of Ginny gingerly, and used an emergency portkey to disappear, presumably on their way to St. Mungo's.

"Now you can take us to your leader," Violet said, smiling mischievously at Tonks and winking at Harry.

Tonks rolled her eyes and glanced at the other Aurors still there. "It's a false alarm. Head back to HQ. I'll see to it that these miscreants get to where they need to be."

Soon, the three witches, Tonks, and Harry were standing alone on the moor.

"It's September first, isn't it?" one of the witches asked Tonks.

"Yes," Tonks said. "You've been gone the entire summer. Speaking for all Aurors, we've enjoyed not having to arrest you at least once a week all summer long."

"You never _have_ to arrest us," one of the triplets said, correcting Tonks.

"But sometimes I _want_ to arrest you," Tonks replied.

"Is our mother around?" Violet asked.

"No. She went to China to put out a diplomatic fire. Your father went with her," Tonks said.

"Well then, we are going to need to pay a visit to . . . ," Violet said, trailing off as she gave Harry a sidelong glance.

"To the Chief Unspeakable," said one of the other sisters. "Take us thither."

"Yeah, how about you just go on your own," Tonks said dismissively. "I've got better things to do. Maybe I will drop by for dinner tonight. On the other hand, you might be wanting to show your face at Hogwarts for the Welcoming Feast. Passing half of your NEWTs prematurely doesn't mean you are not still students."

"Fine," Ivy grumbled. "Get up off your butt, Harry. We've got to get cracking."

Tonks disapparated as one of the sisters produced yet another Rubik's cube and Harry scrambled to his feet, wondering both about Ginny, but also curious to see where the witches would take him next.

One short portkey ride later, Harry and the witches were wandering through the busy streets of London looking for a telephone booth as the witches discussed amongst themselves the incestuous relationship between the Ministry and the Floo system that had made it nearly impossible for outsiders to easily access the Ministry.

The telephone booth proved to be a sort of elevator into what Holly described as the Ministry Atrium. Harry observed that this was a strange and fascinating way to access a government building. Ivy was incredulous upon hearing that Harry had never paid a visit to the Ministry in his own dimension. Harry wanted to spend more time staring at the Ministry Atrium and the massive statue-mural in the center, but the witches frog-marched him to the front desk.

"We're here to see the Chief Unspeakable," Violet announced to the desk guard.

"I'll need to weigh his wand," the guard said, gesturing to Harry and giving him a suspicious glance.

"That will not be necessary," Violet said. "He is our prisoner and in our custody."

"If he's a prisoner, how is it that he has a wand?" the guard said, rolling his eyes at the witches, but also maintaining his guard against Harry. Apparently, he had some magical device at the desk that could sense the wand Harry had up his sleeve.

"It's not your job to determine whether we should disarm prisoners," Ivy said sternly. From her Muggle-made windbreaker she produced a leather wallet and flipped it open, revealing an Auror badge. "Let us through. We're on Ministry business."

The guard guffawed. "I think that just about everybody in this country knows you are not Aurors."

Ivy was incensed. Or, Harry realized, was pretending to be incensed. He was not sure.

"Look, you daft cow! Our credentials were issued by the Minister of Magic herself. If you want to question them, I suggest you take it up with her," said Ivy loud enough for everybody in the general vicinity to hear. She then struck an outraged pose.

Harry blushed as several passers-by took time to point out the scene to their friends and snicker before continuing on with their business.

"Hand it here," the guard grumbled, holding his hand out for the Auror badge.

Ivy slapped the Auror badge into his hand, and the guard cast a few spells to ascertain that the badge had been issued by the Minister of Magic. He handed the badge back. "Be on your way, then. Get out of my hair."

"Thanks for nothing," Ivy groused as Violet poked Harry on past the guard desk and began leading him toward the bank of lifts down one of the hallways connected to the Atrium.

Soon, they were in one of the lifts heading downward. The lift took them to a hallway of shiny, black brick that seemed abandoned. There were several doorways along the hall, but Harry could not ascertain what might be behind the doors. At the end of the hall, they found a door and a circular room that began spinning and descending as soon as the four had entered. After what seemed an eternity in the circular room, they were wandering down another empty hallway. Despite the emptiness, Harry had the very distinct impression that he was being watched closely, but when he glanced at his escorts to see if they had that feeling, he sensed only diffidence.

At the end of several hallways and around several corners, Harry and the group found themselves looking at an imposing doorway flanked by two guards. Their uniforms were similar to that of the Aurors, but they wore insignia or symbols of rank. Ultimately, it was not the guards or the architecture that intimidated Harry. It was the nameplate on the door: Hermione Granger Weasley, Chief Unspeakable.

"You, wait here," Violet instructed Harry as she knocked on the door. She and her sisters then entered, leaving Harry alone with the guards.

Harry nodded respectfully to them and then did his level best to act casual as his mind spun out of control. What would an older Hermione be like? Was his counterpart in this dimension friendly with her? Was she the one that had ordered the mysterious witches to do the crazy things they had been doing all summer?

~!~!~!~!~!~!

_In the canon dimension, hereinafter known as the Para Bellum dimension . . . _

The students on the Hogwarts Express were in full panic, demanding answers from any other student that looked like they might know what was going on. Many of them spilled out onto the tracks and the railroad sidings while others barricaded themselves into their compartments and waited for the worst. The older prefects were shouting for order and giving conflicting instructions, adding to the confusion.

Ron and Hermione satisfied themselves with slumping dejectedly on the front edge of the first railcar where the locomotive had been before the mysterious witches had uncoupled it and zoomed off with Harry and Ginny, and presumably, the locomotive.

"Well," Ron said over the noise the other Hogwarts students were making, trying desperately to inflect some hope and optimism into his voice, "maybe it will turn out okay."

"Maybe," Hermione said.

The young couple sat there for about another minute before popping noises announced the arrival of reinforcements that were too late to do anything.

"Are these Aurors?" Hermione asked Ron.

"Yeah," Ron said, pointing to a couple of Aurors that were looking around, presumably securing the area. "See? They usually wear badges somewhere on their robes."

Professor Dumbledore's arrival, seemingly from nowhere, cut short any further speculation about the Aurors. He came right up to Ron and Hermione. "Where is Harry?" he demanded, sounding desperately urgent.

"I think he and Ginny were on the locomotive," Hermione answered.

"They were with the same three witches that staged the Azkaban raid and broke out Bellatrix Lestrange," Ron added helpfully.

"We don't know that for sure, Ron," Hermione said, noting Dumbledore's look of consternation. "It is a long story, Professor. Two witches escorted Harry and Ginny off the train after the Death Eaters attacked. We think those two witches were involved in the Azkaban breakout. The third was likely nearby."

"I will need a full explanation later," Dumbledore said. "Arrangements are being made for the students to be transported to Hogwarts via alternate means. Go with them." He then disappeared as suddenly as he had arrived.

~!~!~!~!~!

_In the Delenda Est dimension . . . _

Harry stood up straight when the door to the Chief Unspeakable's office opened and an older version of Hermione Granger stepped out. She gave Harry a friendly smile. "Let's have a chat, Harry."

Harry followed her into the office and was surprised to discover that the three witches were not present. As Hermione's hand on his back guided him past a desk heavy with musty tomes and sheets of parchment to a fluffy armchair next to a fireplace, Harry took the opportunity to examine the room. It was thoroughly Hermione. The walls were lined with bookshelves stacked two-deep with all sorts of books, the top of the desk contained equal parts Muggle and magical items, and the décor was reminiscent of the Gryffindor common room at Hogwarts.

"You are acquainted with the Hermione Granger of your own dimension, correct?" Hermione asked as she took a seat in another armchair across from Harry and leaned forward.

"Yes," Harry said slowly, staring at the almost-mirror image of his friend. She was older and possessed an air of maturity and confidence that the other Hermione had not quite yet achieved. Interestingly, this Hermione was wearing a patently Muggle blouse and skirt that would not been out of place in a Muggle business setting instead of adhering to magical dress standards as Harry's friend did while at Hogwarts. "You married Ron, didn't you?" Harry guessed.

"Yes," Hermione answered, her lips quirking into an amused smile. "You could say that we are an unlikely pair. You probably understand that better than some."

"Wow," Harry said, wrapping his mind around the thought and wondering if the Ron and Hermione of his own universe would end up getting married. It seemed to him that they had too many arguments over the smallest things. "Do you have any children?"

Hermione sighed sadly, but gave Harry a tremulous smile. "I'm afraid not. But, Ron and I have not yet given up hope."

This comment caused Harry to feel a little bit awkward as he thought about Ron and Hermione having children. He realized that he probably should not have asked the question.

Hermione was looking at him expectantly, but Harry did not have much more to say. Finally, she was the one to break the silence. "Are you wondering about the Harry Potter of this dimension?"

"I suppose," Harry said slowly, though, strangely, the thought had not even occurred to him until Hermione had suggested it.

Hermione was studying Harry intently. "Did my question make you uncomfortable?"

"Well, yes," Harry admitted.

"Why?"

"Just, it seems weird," said Harry. "Meeting the other me would be like looking into a mirror. Nobody likes looking into a mirror at themselves, right?"

"Do you feel any strange physical sensations when you think about the other Harry?" Hermione inquired.

"No," Harry replied hesitantly.

"Nothing at all? Nothing out of the ordinary?" Hermione pressed.

"No."

"Is it hard to think about the other Harry?"

"No."

"Interesting," Hermione said, allowing herself to lean back in her chair. Somehow, she seemed to be able to sense Harry's discomfort. She studied Harry over steepled fingers for another long moment before moving on.

"Did Gemma, Mira, and Lyra tell you why they were in your dimension?" Hermione inquired.

"Who?" Harry asked. "I thought their names were Violet, Ivy, and Holly."

Hermione nodded. "It sounds like they gave you their middle names when they introduced themselves. They go by either name. But, in all honesty, most people just call them the triplets. It is too hard to tell them apart."

"Kind of like the Weasley twins," Harry analogized.

"Yes," Hermione agreed, "except that even the Weasley twins of this dimension step cautiously when they are around the Black triplets." She grinned mischievously. "Did they tell you that their father is this dimension's Harry Potter? You're basically their father."

Harry's eyes bugged out. It made sense, though. They had hinted, and then Violet had his eyes. But then, another memory surfaced in Harry's mind. At Kings Cross, he had observed that the triplets resembled Bellatrix Black. He gulped and unable to restrain himself, asked the question to which he did not want to know the answer. "Who is the mother?"

"That would be our esteemed Minister of Magic, Bellatrix Black," Hermione said serenely, hiding a smile as she watched the dazed expression on Harry's face transform into abject horror.

Harry gagged, literally beginning to choke on his own spit. "That's disgusting," he said in between coughs.

Hermione shrugged. "I thought you might find that disturbing, given the nature of things in your dimension. I'm sorry to thrust it on you like that, but you will not be able to avoid interacting with Bellatrix in the coming weeks. It is better that you come to terms with it now."

"But, she's a Death Eater! And much older than I am," Harry protested. "What was the other me thinking?"

"Things are quite different in this dimension, Harry. There was time travel involved. And, she never became a Death Eater. In fact, the Harry of this dimension is older than the Bellatrix of this dimension. They're quite happily married."

"It still feels wrong," Harry retorted, trying to imagine the situation, but cringing each time the picture came into his mind.

Hermione shrugged. "It has worked out marvelously in this dimension. Harry and Bellatrix became great war heroes after getting married. The other Harry even became the Minister of Magic for a couple of years. Our Voldemort has been dead for many years and was not able to kill nearly as many as have already perished in your dimension."

"You can't possibly know that much about my dimension," Harry protested.

The expression on Hermione's face became undecipherable. "I think you would be surprised at how much I know about your dimension."

Silence reigned after this impasse. Hermione did not seem to have anything she wanted to say to Harry, and Harry was beginning to feel like this version of Hermione was more adversary than ally. Eventually, an important question arose in Harry's mind. "When can I go back to my dimension?"

"You shall have to ask Bellatrix," Hermione said, standing up and retreating to her desk and sitting down. "She is the one who will make that decision."

Harry's mind began racing as he also stood and followed Hermione halfway to her desk. "But, she's in China, isn't she?"

"Yes," Hermione said as she sorted through some sheets of parchment, seemingly searching for a particular sheet. "I will tell you, though, that I do not anticipate her letting you go home very soon. At least, she will want to maintain the status quo until she knows for sure what she is up against."

"That's not fair," Harry said reflexively.

Hermione found the sheet of parchment for which she had been searching and let out a satisfied smile before setting it down on top of her desk blotter and then turning her attention back to Harry.

"Harry, because you have been kind to my counterpart in your dimension, I will give you a warning. Bellatrix is not interested in what is fair to you or anybody from your dimension. She is interested in what will keep this dimension safe from harm. And, even if she does try to help you or the people in your dimension, you need to understand that she has a tendency to think that she knows what is best for everybody. Safeguard your interests, Harry, and keep yourself informed. Do not blindly do whatever she tells you to do"

Harry blinked as Hermione's words sunk in, and he began to realize the severity of his situation. "Can you tell me more about what is going on?"

Hermione had grabbed a large book and thumbed it open. "I am sorry, Harry, but not today. The triplets have brought grievous news back from your dimension. Things there are worse than you can possibly understand. The plans Bellatrix and I spent the summer making are all but useless. I need to start researching other solutions to the problem, or making ones we already thought of viable. If you go out into the hall, you should find that the triplets have made arrangements to take care of you."

Harry eyed the door to Hermione's office apprehensively.

"You need not fear them, Harry. Without being asked to do so, they invested a significant portion of their summer protecting you from harm and saved your life today," Hermione said, already copying notes from the book onto the parchment she had extracted from the clutter on her desk.

Harry nodded and moved to exit Hermione's office from the door he had entered.

~!~!~!~!~!~!

Harry Ashworth Black, Emeritus Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, and Quidditch Champion, poked awkwardly at the screen of the mobile phone his daughters had gifted him and his wife, Bellatrix, last Christmas. He still had not mastered its use, and Bellatrix had not even deigned to touch it. The triplets had anticipated Bellatrix's rejection of the technology. Hence, they had bought only one phone for their parents to "share."

After slipping the phone into a pocket, Harry drew his wand and cancelled the anti-eavesdropping wards he had erected around the balcony of the Beijing hotel the Chinese Ministry of Magic was using to host the events surrounding Bellatrix's emergency state visit.

Returning inside, Harry found his pseudo-sister, Sidra Potter Malfoy waiting for him in the hallway. "Who was it?" she asked pointedly.

"Holly was calling to let me know that she and my other daughters have returned safely," Harry said, masking his annoyance with Sidra. She had known that Bellatrix had allowed the triplets to make the potentially dangerous journey to the alternate dimension without telling Harry in advance.

"And?"

"And, what?" Harry said, turning away from Sidra and walking down the hall toward the conference room in which Bellatrix and the Chinese Minister were conversing.

Sidra followed. "What did they say? What is the news?"

"It is not thrilling news," Harry said shortly, not about to deliver news to his wife's secretary before personally informing his wife.

When Harry and Sidra arrived at the conference room, they discovered that the meeting between Bellatrix and the Chinese Minister had concluded. Bellatrix, dressed in expensive black and blue robes, was exchanging handshakes and bows with the Chinese Minister and his officials. The faux smile plastered on Bellatrix's face told Harry that she was seething with anger.

With the formalities concluded, Bellatrix latched onto Harry, and the couple was soon striding silently to the lift with Sidra and part of the detachment of Aurors serving as Bellatrix's bodyguard in tow. Within about two minutes, the party had arrived at the door of the hotel suite Harry and Bellatrix were sharing.

Two of the Aurors took posts by the doors while the rest spread out and concealed themselves at strategic locations. Sidra wanted to follow Harry and Bellatrix into the suite, but Bellatrix dismissed Sidra with a curt nod that Sidra was able to interpret based on her long experience as Bellatrix's secretary. As soon as Harry and Bellatrix were alone behind the special anti-eavesdropping wards the Auror detachment had set up, Bellatrix let loose.

"I am going to strangle Percy Weasley," Bellatrix said, clenching her hands into fists as Harry took a seat on one of the couches and relaxed. Muttering angrily to herself, Bellatrix disappeared into the bathroom. "I do not know why you appointed him to head up International Magical Cooperation after Andrew retired," she called out from the bathroom.

"I felt like I owed it to him after all he did in the Death Eater trials," Harry repeated for probably the twentieth time since making Percy's appointment all those years ago. He stood up, strolled to the mini-kitchenette, and found a bottle of butterbeer. "Besides, how was he supposed to know that you already knew the Chinese ambassador was part of the smuggling organization?"

"People in high political office are just supposed to _assume_ those sorts of things!" Bellatrix said emphatically, returning from the bathroom in a bathrobe. "It puts me in a very awkward position. What I am supposed to say to Minister Liu? I am sorry for the international embarrassment caused by young Mr. Weasley, who should have resolved this quietly instead of going to the press. That was a very naughty thing your ambassador did. But, please appoint somebody who does the same thing because I was really hoping to use the smuggling ring in one of my international political plots."

"Yes, I would have a hard time keeping a straight face while saying that," Harry said, grinning as he tipped back the butterbeer bottle. He had no problem with Bellatrix's overall performance as Minister of Magic, but sometimes he felt that her actions were a little bit sketchy.

Bellatrix reached for a bottle of firewhiskey sitting on a sideboard, but Harry frowned at her. She scowled at him and moved on to the kitchenette to fetch a bottle of butterbeer. The two then sprawled on the couch, leaning against each other as Harry sipped on his bottle, and Bellatrix held hers without opening it.

Harry was enjoying the moment and did not want to spoil it, but the news was urgent enough that Harry knew Bellatrix would be irate at not being told as soon as possible. "The triplets have returned," he said casually.

Harry felt Bellatrix stiffen slightly. When Harry had found out about the triplets' eagerly accepting an assignment from Bellatrix and Hermione to visit an alternate dimension for the purpose of chasing a dark wizard that had strayed into their own dimension, Harry had been angry that his wife would endanger their daughters. Bellatrix had felt that their daughters were capable of taking care of themselves. After all, they would merely be spying, not fighting. Naturally, a row had followed.

"They brought bad news and tourists," Harry said, trying to skirt the issue that had inspired the row.

"What is the bad news?" Bellatrix asked.

"The dimension they visited apparently has two Voldemorts," Harry informed Bellatrix.

Bellatrix mulled this over in her mind. "Is the second one an activated horcrux or a completely different Voldemort from yet another dimension?"

"Holly said that Violet thinks the latter," Harry answered.

Bellatrix cursed. She stood up, popped open the butterbeer, and downed it in two long draws. "Do they think an invasion is imminent?"

"No."

"Good. Who are the tourists?" Bellatrix asked as she hurled the bottle into a rubbish bin.

"Another Harry Potter and a Ginny Weasley," Harry said.

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose at Harry and then subconsciously glanced at the firewhiskey bottle.

"It won't help," Harry said.

"Then I guess it is bedtime," Bellatrix said crossly. "We can rush back home tomorrow morning."

Harry grinned. "Okay." He stood up and followed her into the bedroom.

~!~!~!~!~!~!

Young Harry exited Hermione's office and found another wizard waiting for him just past the guards flanking the doorway. Smiling broadly, the wizard approached Harry and extended his hand. "Hello, Harry. Leo Black, at your service."

"Uh, hello," Harry said, slowly shaking the other wizard's hand as he eyed him and tried to think whether he had met the same person in his own dimension.

"My father is Sirius Black," Leo explained.

"Okay," Harry said as he mentally took note that Leo's physical features were somewhat reminiscent of Sirius Black's physical features. Inwardly, he felt a twinge of sorrow for the Sirius of his own dimension. That Sirius would never have children.

"I have been asked to serve as your tour guide for the duration of your stay," Leo explained, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder and pointing the way back down the maze of passageways to the elevator before letting go of Harry and energetically striding down the hall without checking to see if Harry was following.

"And prison guard," Harry muttered, slowly following in Leo's wake.

"Sorry, didn't hear that," Leo called back toward Harry.

"Never mind," Harry said, catching up to Leo. "Where are we going?"

"St Mungo's," Leo answered. "We'll need to sort out young Miss Weasley's medical situation."

"Right," Harry said, suddenly remembering her dire state of health. Curiosity also showed its face. "Is there another Ginny Weasley in this dimension?"

Leo nodded. "Yes, there is. The last I heard, she and her husband were traveling abroad on some sort of research project."

They reached the lift, and Leo punched the call button. As they waited, he began to tap his foot to some song that Harry could not hear.

"So, are you an Auror?" Harry asked.

"Nothing so grand," Leo said, stepping into the lift the instant the doors opened. Harry followed, and Leo pushed the button for the main lobby. "I'm the President of Black Magic Corp. I manage all of the Black family's investments in magical companies."

"You work for Bellatrix then," Harry surmised.

Leo grinned. "Aye. But I must say, she pays a good salary, and the fringe benefits are fantastic."

"What does Black Magic sell?" Harry inquired.

"We do more investing than selling," Leo answered. "We hold property, too. But for products, I guess you can say that we're slightly responsible for Weasley Wizard Wheezes. We also have done major underwriting work for Weasley Corp."

Harry frowned at the thought of the Black and Weasley families being entangled like that. "What does Weasley Corp do?"

Leo winked as the elevator doors opened to the Ministry Atrium. "It is a Ministry contractor."

"Do the Weasley twins control Weasley Corp?" Harry asked.

"No. One of the other Weasley brothers does. Arthur Weasley originally founded Weasley Corp. After it started getting Ministry contracts, he stepped down and put one of his sons in charge so that he could maintain his Ministry job," Leo said as he shepherded Harry to one of the fireplaces that served as an exit. "Hang on to me," he directed.

One nasty Floo trip later, Harry and Leo were making their way through the St. Mungo's lobby toward the reception desk. Harry, who had never visited St. Mungo's, tried to take in everything about his surroundings, comparing it to Muggle hospitals with which he was slightly more familiar. The receptionist had just finished directing a mother and her barfing child to a mediwitch's assistant who could help them immediately when Leo and Harry reached her.

"We're here for the young witch the Aurors hauled in a while ago," Leo announced.

"It looks like she might be a ward of the Ministry," the receptionist informed Leo after pulling up Ginny's file and scanning it.

"Arguably, she is more a ward of the Black family than a ward of the Ministry," Leo said casually.

The receptionist took a closer look at Leo, her eyes widening slightly when she recognized him. "Let me speak with my superiors." She left the desk and disappeared down a hall. Absentmindedly, Leo began tapping his fingers on the counter. Harry started staring at the patients in the waiting room, trying to imagine how they had acquired their injuries.

After about five minutes, the receptionist returned. "What precisely were you hoping to do here?"

"Visit the patient, consult with the staff regarding her situation, fill out the admission forms, and everything else," Leo said patiently.

"We can allow that, but everything you do has to be copied to Minister Black for ratification until we receive something more substantial from the Ministry regarding the patient's legal guardians," the receptionist explained.

"No problem," Leo said, holding out his arms in a way to suggest that somebody was going to drop a fifty-pound package on him. "Deposit all the nasty paperwork here."

The receptionist gave Leo the paperwork in the form of several dozen sheets of parchment and directed Harry and Leo to the private ward in which the staff had deposited Ginny. They found one of the Aurors assigned to escort Ginny to the hospital by Tonks standing outside the ward.

"Are we supposed to stay here?" the Auror asked after he recognized Leo.

"I have no clue," Leo said, opening the door and waiting for Harry to step in ahead of him. "Tell your superiors that they should consult with the Chief Unspeakable. She probably will know what should be done."

The other Auror assigned to Ginny had been sitting in the room, but he left as soon as Harry and Leo walked in. Leo took a chair near the window and began filling out the paperwork as Harry went to Ginny's bedside and sat in the chair next to her. Ginny was unconscious.

"Let's see," Leo said, filling out the paperwork aloud. "Name . . . um, how about, Anne Chovee?"

"Yeah, whatever," Harry said, still staring at Ginny. The hospital staff had put her into a hospital robe and tucked her tightly into the bed. Despite Harry knowing that Ginny was injured, it looked to him like she was sleeping peacefully. "Do you think she is very seriously injured?"

"I don't know. Hopefully somebody comes and tells us," Leo said, still making his way through the questionnaire. "How old is she?"

"I think fourteen," Harry said, feeling guilty for not being completely sure about her birthday. "Yeah, fourteen, he confirmed after thinking about it some more."

"Close enough, I'm sure," Leo said, jotting down the number. "It's not as if they _really_ need to know."

For about twenty minutes, only the sound of Leo's quill filled the room as Leo proceeded to fudge Ginny's entire medical history and identification information and as Harry watched Ginny for any signs of improvement. Eventually, the door to the ward opened to admit a young Mediwizard.

The Mediwizard arched an eyebrow at Leo, seeming to know him by sight. "I hear that you've been throwing your weight around here," he said drily, though not without a hint of humor in his voice.

Leo shrugged. "How often do people storm in here and demand to pay somebody's bills?"

"Not too often," the Mediwizard admitted, finally breaking into a smile.

"Who is she and where did she come from?" the Mediwizard asked, peering toward the paperwork Leo had been filling out.

"I think that information is classified," Leo said.

The Mediwizard rolled his eyes. "I thought these accidents would stop happening once the Minister finally got kicked out of the Department of Mysteries."

"I don't think this was quite what you would call an industrial accident," Leo said as he made the quill disappear and handed the stack of paperwork to the Mediwizard. "You can have this. I think this should be enough information for you."

"Thanks awfully," the Mediwizard said as he accepted the stack of parchment. He looked down at it. "Nice name. Really imaginative."

"Thank you," Leo said.

"Has anybody told you about her injuries?"

"Nothing."

"Okay. So, it looks like she got hit by a Dark spell that we haven't seen in use since the last months of the war against Voldemort," the Mediwizard explained. "We were kind of hoping that nobody alive knew the incantation."

"Is it a very destructive spell?" Harry asked.

The Mediwizard looked at Harry suspiciously, perhaps wondering who he was, but answered the question without probing the reasons behind Harry's presence. "Yes. Very bad. It is a long-term, irreversible spell that immediately incapacitates and then continues to attack the victim's internal organs for several months, resulting in a long, painful death. But, it is treatable. So, that's the good news. There is a little bit of bad news, though, in addition to the fact that the spell is a bad one."

"And what is the bad news?" Leo asked.

"The bad news is that we don't have a lot of the potion that treats the spell on hand. I can guarantee that she won't die while she's in our care, but if we have to ration out our supply of the potion to make it last for the duration of the spell, she could be very uncomfortable until the spell wears off because we'd be able to administer only enough potion to prevent death, but not enough to completely ward off the complications." the Mediwizard explained.

"Can't you order up some more potion?" Leo asked. "Money isn't exactly an issue, you know."

"It takes a long time to brew," the Mediwizard said. "Obviously, we've set the brewers to work already, and a new batch will probably be ready soon enough to make the last weeks of the spells duration completely bearable for her."

"I can't believe that you wouldn't have more of this stuff on hand," Leo grumbled.

The Mediwizard shrugged. "I don't control the supply. I wonder, though, if the Ministry might have a strategic supply that perhaps Minister Black could release to us for this situation."

"Your receptionist says that Bellatrix is going to have to approve everything. Have your people send her a note inquiring after the Ministry's supply. Make it a big, shiny, flashy note, too. The stuff you are about to send her is precisely the sort of stuff she signs without even looking at it," Leo said. "You know, one time, she even signed a birthday card some Ministry employees sent to her for _her own birthday_."

"Right. I'll do that," the Mediwizard agreed, letting out a chuckle.

"When is she going to wake up?" Harry asked.

"Not for at least a day or two," the Mediwizard said. "We've given her potions to keep her under so that she doesn't have to feel the brunt of the pain."

"We'll be back, then," Leo said as he abandoned his chair.

Harry, Leo, and the Mediwizard departed from the ward. As soon as the Mediwizard turned into another room, leaving Harry and Leo to themselves, Harry asked where they were going next.

"I think we'll get you settled in at Ravenbourgh," Leo said, casually gesturing toward the lobby of the hospital.

"What's that?" Harry asked as he began following Leo back toward the front desk.

"It's the House of Black's country manor," Leo said.

"Do you live there, then?" Harry asked.

"Yes, and a lot of other people, too," Leo replied. "Technically, Harry and Bellatrix own Ravenbourgh, but family and friends are free to drop in and spend a night, or two, or a few months if they like. My wife and I have lived there on a permanent basis since it was built, though."

In one way, that sounded like the Burrow to Harry. But in other ways, Harry thought it sounded a little bit too open. "Doesn't that drive the other me and Bellatrix crazy to have people constantly wandering around their house?"

"They aren't usually there enough to care," Leo said as they walked up to a large fireplace for people wishing to leave St. Mungo's. "Harry and Bellatrix have a townhouse in London at which they will often spend the night. My wife and I are technically the only _permanent_ residents. Speaking of my wife . . . ," Leo trailed off. He stopped and gave Harry a grin.

"What?" Harry asked.

"Oh, I won't spoil the surprise," said Leo, gesturing for Harry to follow him into the Floo.

~!~!~!~!~!~!

For Harry and Bellatrix, the "rush back home" involved stops in Hawaii and Las Vegas. The former was a necessary stop on the Portkey route Bellatrix had chosen. While they waited for the connecting Portkey to take them to Las Vegas, Harry ducked into a gift shop and bought several crates of chocolates to hand out to acquaintances during the upcoming Christmas season.

The stop in Las Vegas had a more definite purpose. At some point in the night, Bellatrix had decided it was time to pay a visit to her cousin, Sirius Black, the Ministry's ambassador to the U.S. Department of Magic. Sirius's first action as Ambassador had been to open a branch-embassy in Las Vegas complete with a casino. The casino brought in a handsome profit, hindered only by the tax authorities' refusal to grant Sirius diplomatic immunity from taxation. With few exceptions, Sirius resided at the so-called embassy from day to day.

"Whatever it was, I didn't do it," Sirius protested as Harry and Bellatrix invaded his office on the top floor of a high-rise and shooed out the embassy worker with whom Sirius had been meeting. "Blame Percy!"

"Heard about that, did you?" Harry said, winking at Sirius.

Sirius grinned at Harry. Over the years since the end of the war, Sirius and Harry had become friendly with each other, but they had not quite achieved the bond Harry had felt with his godfather before he had traveled to the past and changed the timeline forever.

"Aside from your chronic lack of diplomatic productiveness, you have done nothing wrong," Bellatrix said as she looked around the office, eyeing the furnishings with suspicion.

"What brings you here, then?" Sirius asked.

"Trouble," Bellatrix said. "I may have a new job for you. Pick your ugliest staffer and tell her that she is now the Acting Ambassador."

Sirius's jaw dropped. "What? First of all, you _might_ have a new job for me? Who is going to replace me? And what makes you think that my ugliest staffer is a female?"

"Relax," Bellatrix said, "you probably will enjoy your new job. If it turns out I do not need you, you can have this job back. As for your staff, if you have a male on it, you are free to appoint him. Now, pack your bags and make arrangements for us to get back to London."

Sirius left his office, muttering angrily under his breath as Bellatrix helped herself to his automatic-massage desk chair.


End file.
